Model Rules of Professional Conduct
I had actually spent a fair amount of time pondering this one before I finally deleted it from my backgrounder for Dad.
Shore was an ethics dancer. He could bebop and scat with the best of them. All step-skippers could. The case of Francis and Walter could have been his Waterloo.
The question spinning in my head that summer afternoon in the firm library was whether I should give Shore a pass or let Dad make that decision.
The American Bar Association's Ethics 2000 Commission drafted an amendment to its Model Rules of Professional Conduct that would restrict attorney-client sex. Of course the role of lawyer and lover are incompatible, but did that preclude sex prior to the defendant becoming a client?
My Dad, partner at Crane, Poole & Schmidt, could be positively snappish when it came to sexual deviants on his team. I ultimately showed mercy to Shore with my delete key - not so much because I didn't agreed with the code but because - well - whenever Shore walked by my desk, I felt a chill. Not so much a chill. More like when you have a fever and you can't stand the feeling of sheets on your bare skin.
Now it has come back to haunt him. She came back to haunt him. At least that's what Brad thinks. When that ethereal woman swept into the lobby today, I saw what it did to Shore. To everyone who witnessed it.
Francis. That's what he called her.
She called him Walter.
Walter...
Then Brad had leaned in and quietly told me about Francis Farmer, that actress from the '40's. She was institutionalized at the Western Washington State hospital. Just like Shores client that had won him a reprimand from the judge all those years ago.
Brad said Walter was the doctor to that actress. He said he was a notorious psychosurgeon who developed the transorbital lobotomy. Ice picked that poor girl by lifting her eye lid and inserting an ice pick to tear into her brain.
Could Francis and Walter be their little inside joke?
Shore was an ethics dancer. He could bebop and scat with the best of them. All step-skippers could. The case of Francis and Walter could have been his Waterloo.
The question spinning in my head that summer afternoon in the firm library was whether I should give Shore a pass or let Dad make that decision.
The American Bar Association's Ethics 2000 Commission drafted an amendment to its Model Rules of Professional Conduct that would restrict attorney-client sex. Of course the role of lawyer and lover are incompatible, but did that preclude sex prior to the defendant becoming a client?
My Dad, partner at Crane, Poole & Schmidt, could be positively snappish when it came to sexual deviants on his team. I ultimately showed mercy to Shore with my delete key - not so much because I didn't agreed with the code but because - well - whenever Shore walked by my desk, I felt a chill. Not so much a chill. More like when you have a fever and you can't stand the feeling of sheets on your bare skin.
Now it has come back to haunt him. She came back to haunt him. At least that's what Brad thinks. When that ethereal woman swept into the lobby today, I saw what it did to Shore. To everyone who witnessed it.
Francis. That's what he called her.
She called him Walter.
Walter...
Then Brad had leaned in and quietly told me about Francis Farmer, that actress from the '40's. She was institutionalized at the Western Washington State hospital. Just like Shores client that had won him a reprimand from the judge all those years ago.
Brad said Walter was the doctor to that actress. He said he was a notorious psychosurgeon who developed the transorbital lobotomy. Ice picked that poor girl by lifting her eye lid and inserting an ice pick to tear into her brain.
Could Francis and Walter be their little inside joke?